


Nightmares

by PyromaniacLullaby



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Gen, Gore, Post-Time Skip, Sadistic Byleth, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-01-31 05:09:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21440731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyromaniacLullaby/pseuds/PyromaniacLullaby
Summary: Alternate worldline where Byleth decides to encourage post-time skip Dimitri's monstrous and sadistic behavior, instead of working with him towards healing.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Dimitri

The sharp cries of death echoed throughout the once-peaceful corridors of the monastery. Maroon blood coated the walls and the floor in gallons, the coppery scent only overpowered by the stench of death. In the middle, the monstrous Prince stood, heaving. He wrenched his sword out of a corpse, the slash spilling organs all over his feet. His eyes burned— something halfway between horror and fear. The voices quiet, for the first time, only now that all his enemies were dead. Then, distantly, the soft tapping of feet. He raised his sword, unable to hold back the low growl that emanated from his throat at the new danger. The footsteps paused. Another walking corpse, another enemy… The footsteps splashed through pools of blood, accompanied by a constant and dull dragging sound. And then it all interrupted by a scream. By pleading. The speech slurred, female, obviously barely holding on. “Please,” she begged, “Please let me go. I understand it now. I understand. Please just don’t. _Get your hands off me!_” The sound of struggling, of screams and begging, but the footsteps still constant.

The Professor rounded the corner. Dragging behind her a soldier in an Empire uniform, torn and bloodied. Her feet kicked against the floor uselessly, her nails scratching helplessly against the Professor’s hand, clutching a handful of her unwashed brown hair. Her gaze met Dimitri’s, him frozen in place, her expression the same as the first time he’d met her in Remire Village and he had worried for her humanity. “I found one still alive,” she told him.

She yanked the sobbing, screaming soldier up to her feet, then tossed her, pushed her towards Dimitri. She fell to the ground, halfway between the two.

Anger burned in Dimitri’s heart. Old wounds, old injustices, lost lives, old pain, _Edelgard_… His grip on his sword’s pommel tightened as he raised the sword into the air, preparing for a downward strike.

“No.” The Professor interrupted, holding up her hand to stop him. The injured soldier was a pitiful heap on the floor. She reached down, grabbing the soldier by the neck, angling her face toward Dimitri. “Don’t you think she might have information on the other troops? We need to keep her alive, if only for a little longer.”

Wordlessly, Dimitri nodded. He wiped his sword, slick with blood, off on his black cloak. The Professor was looking at him expectantly, holding out the dagger from her belt. And he tried to lose himself in his hatred.

Dimitri awoke in bed, still in the monastery, still safe. His eyes snapped open, gradually adjusting to the still dark sky. He hadn’t been able to get a decent night’s sleep in five years. Joining up with his old Professor and his old friends, it was supposed to help him, but it seemed to only make his nightmares worse.

He buried his face in his hands. Any tears he could have spared for his humanity had dried up long ago.

Still, this place and these people… Perhaps, deep down, he thought they might be able to help him recapture his youth. His innocence. A time when he didn’t hate himself so completely.

He should’ve known that he was already much too far gone.

The Professor

When she was younger, she thought the young prince mad for proclaiming her humanity. “Your smile,” he told her, “I’ve never seen it before. I am glad it exists.”

He believed himself to be a monster, haunted by the ghosts of the past, desperate for redemption… Redemption only she could give him. Redemption that only she could convince him he was worthy of. He wasn’t happy. He needed to be told that he was worthy, that his monstrosity could be overcome, that good still lay within him.

So why? Why did she send him such dreams in the middle of the night? Why did she hold his hand when he confided his nightmares to her? Why did she give him a poultice to help, comprised of only berries and bitter willow sap? Why did she creep into his dreams every night- make him kill over and over, torture, maim countless victims- sending him messages over and over from his loved ones, his dead enemies, his own friends and professor- taunting him, coxing him, begging him, cajoling him into greater and greater acts of evil?

Perhaps she didn’t want to be alone. Perhaps she enjoyed his bloodthirst. Perhaps she enjoyed being by his side even more.

She wanted to keep him by her side by any means necessary, to see the bloodlust in his eyes, to guide his knife towards her own enemies.

She thought she loved him. That seemed like the only explanation for her actions. And she wanted that love to last until the end.


	2. Chapter 2

Felix 

He had misjudged Dimitri. Mistaken his ruthlessness and rage for sadism. That wasn’t true. The Prince was bloody and cruel, but at least his rage had purpose.  Merciless and brutal, using any tool at his disposal, including his hands and raw strength. If anything could be said in defense of the Boar, at least his actions were driven by a twisted desire for justice, no matter how useless and animalistic his anger. 

When Felix first met the Professor, he had admired her. Her skill, her swiftness, her footwork, her clever tactics, her poise, her strength. She fought unlike anyone he’d ever seen before. With her entire body and soul, not just weapons. A true mercenary. 

But… As time went on… That admiration turned to disgust. 

She was cold and inexpressive, like him, even in battle. Her face never showed her true emotions. 

It still felt genuine. Her gradual smile. Her affection for her students. Her despair and anger at her father’s death. So how? How was it possible that, in the heat of battle, the same face that taught him swordsmanship could smile? 

It was the battle against Miklan and his bandit group. The enemy crawled out of the crumbling cracks of the abandoned tower, ambushing them from all angles. Perhaps, for the Professor, the surprise lowered her guard. Perhaps, it was simply the first truly challenging battle she’d fought in a while. 

Miklan turned, becoming some perverse creature no longer capable of being called human. The influence of the lance on someone who was not meant to wield it. Silvain was horrified. The others dispatched of the monster quickly. Silvain got in the last hit. 

The Professor was next to Felix when it happened, watching the Silvain deal the death blow with what he felt was an appropriately somber expression. And then—

She darted into the darkness. Her sword plunged into the dim lighting of the ruined tower, skewering on its end a shivering bandit, who had laid hidden in the shadows. Perhaps he was frozen in fear by the appearance of the monster. Perhaps he merely judged his chances as better hiding, unable to run away without passing through either hostile enemy. His reasoning would be lost time.

The Professor’s sword impaled him. She drove the sharp edge through his chest, his arms still trembling in a weak attempt to raise his weapon to defend himself. His blood splashed onto the floor behind him, his mouth wretched open in a death rattle, words lost to pain, coughing up nothing but crimson blood, his eyes swimming with shock.

And the Professor smiled. 

It didn’t look inherently evil. It was the same smile she gave when Annette told a funny joke, when Felix mastered a difficult maneuver, when Dedue cooked a delicious meal. It was  _ happy _ . At this stranger’s death, not even given the chance to fight back or surrender. And, in that light, it did look evil.

Felix felt cheated. As if something had been taken from him. The Professor was not his to claim. She never had been. And yet, it was as if she had been taken away. The idea of her. The kind professor, the understanding friend. It would never exist again. 

No one else saw the smile. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, flitting across her face. Her ruthless tactics, her desire to not leave even a single alive. He saw it all now.

But what could say? What could he possibly say to the others?

Later, he asked about the smile. Perhaps he hoped he was wrong, that he had misinterpreted her expression somehow. Instead, she simply nodded at him. “I smiled?” she asked. “Ah, I suppose I must have.” His stomach dropped, churning sharply into disgust. The Professor shrugged, waving away his question. “You are a swordsman, are you not, Felix? You take pride in your skill with the blade. I am mercenary. It only seems natural for me to take pride in my occupation-- killing and death. But don’t worry,” she added, “I only kill those who deserve it or whom I am paid to destroy. That’s all.” As if that made it better.

The other students saw the change in the way Felix treated the Professor, but again what could he say? They trusted her. 

If Dimitri was a boar, she was a venomous snake.


End file.
